Falling Water
by Dyslexic Angel
Summary: When even living isn't real, dead is far from gone. In a corner of the World That Never Was, Zexion's not quite ghost contemplates what he has lost, and what he might find again. ZEMYX, SLASH


AN: a fair bit of eplanation will be required for this to make any sense at all, as it was not _written_ to stand alone. This is set in the continuity from my lemonaftertaste challenge on livejournal, which begins before and continues through past the end of the first game. This takes place after Zexion has been killed by the Repliku—but nobodies don't die that easily, and he has awakened again in a dusty corner of the World That Never Was, and is biding his time until he comes up with something to do. (this also takes place shortly before Sora's first fight with Demyx, but that is not particularly relevent) If this piques your interest, go look at the linked stories on my livejournal, ashofroses!

A turn of the ancient tap, and hot water spilled in a glittering cascade from the shower nozzle into the blue-tiled box which combined both bath and shower. Zexion eyed it warily for a moment before ducking under the warm spray, and gasping-- not at the temperature, which was fine, but at the wave of memories it evoked.

_"Come in." Demyx's voice was high and pure, calmly expecatn. Zexion had had no clue what to expect, stepping into the other nobodie's lair, but was still surprised by the...serenity, for lack of a better word, which lay over this place. A small fountain bubbled to itself in one corner, casting up drops to glitter in the phantom sun..._

They had made love in that room, the first time you could call it lovemaking rather than slightly desperate sex. Demyx had pressed him into the too-soft bed and promised to be gentle, and it was the first time in this or any life that Zexion had realized pleasure could be seperate from pain... he pushed wet hair out of his eyes, at first roughly, then tenderly as Demyx had done so very few times. Zexion had not been comfortable with it then, with any display of affection, but now that Demyx was out of his grasp Zexion would give the heart he was beginning to believe in to have all those moments of awkward tenderness back. Just before his second "death", Zexion had found reason to think the nobodies might have or even _be_ hearts, damaged past function; now he was certain, as he could feel where his had broken.

_"Indigo, Indigo, Indigo!" Demyx's voice, rough with strain and need, forming again and again his __human__ name as every drop of water in the room went mad, brushing their skin with greedy fingers..._

The water that ran over his skin now did so only to please gravity, bu Zexion leaned into it like a lover's touch, fighting not to remember even as he wanted so badly to lose himself in it. Demyx wasn't here now—might never be, if the nobodies in that first, stronger state were as close to immortal as they seemed. Demyx could find him, of course—but only by returning to the World That Never Was, and how would he know to look, thinking that Zexion was gone forever now? Closing his eyes, Zexion rubbued soap through his hair and imagined the bubbles would rinse away ever-so-faintly blue, as they had when he was a child and a fool, and the color a mere dye-job.

_Back at the university, one of the older students had been working on a project, a collaboration of science and magic (and trickery) that was supposed to determine your "perfect love". Indigo had been openly scornful of the entire project, so much so that the man had asked him to be the first test subject. Amuzed, Indigo had agreed. The machine had knocked him out flat on the first try—and left him with the image of eyes a blue-green shade too dark to be quite real. Deeply shaken, Indigo had denied any effects other than the obvious unconciousness, but those eyes had haunted his dreams for a long time after..._

But he had seen those eyes again, Zexion thought, turning the water warmer until it was all but scalding. "Demyx." he whispered, as the spray ran searing fingers over his skin, leaving trails of red in it's wake. Like the sunburn he never seemed to get on that tiny backwater world—he hadn't been real enough, then, and not yet enough a part of the World That Never Was to ape existance so perfectly. Now, integrated as he was, in a body and mind sustained only by the illogic of the place, Zexion's heart was free to function as it had not since Indigo's death—and it was focused on what Zexion had lost. With a sigh, Zexion shut off the water and leaned againt the cool tile, and cursed Demyx for ever making him realize he had a heart to break.


End file.
